


warm blooded

by katsuk1



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mentions of Blood, SO, blood tw, chensung - Freeform, does this person really die ?, hmmmmmmmmm, i tag it as major character death but, if u couldn't tell, it's - Freeform, lapslock, my boys don't deserve this, o btw, o ya and it's a, ok anna shut up, or did he just... go 2 sleep hmMmMmmMmMm, superhero au, we love a good angsty chensung fic, will someone talk to me abt bnha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 04:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsuk1/pseuds/katsuk1
Summary: chenle was always warm, a natural heat magnet that jisung both envied and despised.but at a moment like this, jisung wishes chenle still had the temperature of a thousand suns running through his veins.





	warm blooded

**Author's Note:**

> ✿ BLOOD !!! TW !!!!  
> ✿ i think this is the first chensung fic i've written on this account, uwu !!!  
> ✿ lapslock!  
> ✿ just barely based off of bnha, bnha is all that's been on my mind lately  
> ✿ come yell at me @chenle on tumblr!  
> ✿ just barely beta'd dude

nothing jisung could’ve ever studied would prepare him for this. no number of passages from a textbook could warn him about how foul the iron stench of blood could be, and no amount of classes could teach him how to react when your best friend’s thick, red blood slipped through your fingers.

 

“jisung,” there it was— the breathy, gasp of a word he was waiting for, aching to hear as a sign that chenle was okay. yet after hearing it, jisung feels like chenle shouldn’t be saying anything at all.

 

“shut up, _stupid,_ ” jisung hisses, pressing his hand harder onto the wound on chenle’s stomach. chenle’s shirt was soaked with blood, an ill sight that makes jisung shut his eyes tight, a lump lodging itself in his throat. he shifts his hands for just a second, and his heart skips a beat when he hears chenle hiss.

 

“jisung,” chenle’s voice is tight, much too different compared to his usual energetic cheer for jisung’s liking. he can feel every shallow breath chenle takes, a small rise and fall under his hands.

 

“ _no,_ chenle, _fuck_ , just don’t talk— stop talking!” the blood overflows from underneath jisung’s hands, and he’s too afraid to press any harder, not wanting to hear chenle’s pained noises again.

 

for a moment, chenle does exactly that. his mouth shuts promptly, and even though jisung was the one who asked him to, his eyes flit upwards in fear of the worst, in fear that chenle really was gone, only to be met with the smallest of smiles on his best friend’s face.

 

“i’m sorry,” chenle begins slowly. he places his hand over jisung’s weakly, wincing when he feels his own blood on his fingers. “i should’ve dodged it,” he chuckles, a breathy exhale at most, before stopping, realizing he can’t breathe and laugh at the same time without the pain becoming unbearable.

 

 _no,_ jisung wants to argue. tears sting his eyes as he meets chenle’s half-lidded gaze, falling forward to place his forehead on chenle’s shoulder. he should’ve been there to help him. he shouldn’t have trusted him when he said _“i can take care of this villain, trust me!”_ and ran off with a stupid grin. he should’ve _been_ there, he should’ve been the one to take the hit—

 

“you’re always so nice to me, ‘sungie,” a sigh escapes chenle’s mouth, a stutter of a breath, his body unwilling to give more. “you trained with me when i was afraid of failing combat class. you tutored me in—” a cough rises past his lungs and out his mouth, his body shaking under jisung’s.

 

“what did i say about not talking?” jisung bites, but no venom follows his words. it seems that as chenle dies on him, jisung’s voice does too.

 

“thank you, i guess is what i’m trying to say.”

 

jisung freezes. like someone had pulled a wire from his system, he can’t do anything but feel what was happening.

 

“thank you for being such a good friend, for always being patient with me, for sticking by my side,” chenle inhales deeply, as deep as he could, before holding his breath. when he doesn’t say anything else, jisung lifts his sticky forehead from his shoulder and looks down at his best friend.

 

“jisung,” chenle’s breathless, more so than before, and jisung begins to work again, like chenle speaking his name placed a whole new wire in jisung’s machine.

 

he watches chenle close his eyes, mouth slightly agape. when he opens his eyes again, jisung’s heart stops altogether.

 

“thank you for loving me.”

 

“don’t... don’t say that,” jisung lets out a shuddering breath, pressing his hands harder down on the wound. “you’re not going to die, so stop talking like it.” he says it like a warning, like chenle can somehow stop the work of fate. not even the naive park jisung could believe his own words.

 

“but if i do—”

 

“you’re not going to fucking die, so stop talking like you are, dumbass!” his tears drip onto his hands, mixing in with the red liquid that bleeds through chenle’s body. it’s sickening, and jisung wants to vomit.

 

“if i do, jisung,” so persistent, so _fucking_ persistent. jisung wants chenle to shut up, to save his energy for when help arrives, but he knows nothing in the world could stop chenle when he puts his mind to something. “if i do,” he repeats himself. “i... i really love you, you know?”

 

“chenle…”

 

“you’ll be okay without me, won’t you?” chenle has the _audacity_ to smile, the corners of his lips quirking up gently. it doesn’t reach his eyes. he doesn’t have the strength to make it reach his eyes.

 

“no, _no,_ of course i won’t be okay without you, you’re my best friend,” jisung chokes out a sob, voice cracking at the words _best friend._ “when will i ever find someone like you again?”

 

jisung’s vision is too blurred with tears to notice a hand— _chenle’s hand_ _—_ moving to hold his face. jisung squeezes his eyes tight, wringing them of any stray tears that block his perception. when his eyes clear, chenle’s still smiling, like he isn’t bleeding to his death at all.

 

“i wish i told you when we had more time,” a laugh hardly makes it through chenle’s lips, but it’s there; just audible enough for jisung’s ears. “but i guess this was what i needed to finally spill the beans,”

 

“stop joking around, stupid, _don’t do this_ _—_ ”

 

“i’m not joking around,” it’s a meek defence, the best chenle can come up with. “i wasn’t… i wasn’t joking around when i said i loved you.”

 

jisung doesn’t realize he’s crying again until chenle’s thumb rubs at his cheek, surely at another tear that slipped from his eyes.

 

“chenle…” jisung watches his best friend, his partner in crime, the fucking _love of his life_ close his eyes for the last time, hand falling to meet the rocky earth _._ “don’t fucking leave me, you _asshole!_ don’t say that kind of shit if you won’t stay!”

 

chenle’s blood is so warm under jisung’s fingertips, it’s unfair. it seeps, and it seeps, like an endless cycle of rain that the sky offers after an era of drought.

 

if his blood is so warm, jisung thinks bitterly, why can’t his body feel the same?


End file.
